Conversation

One of these days, when you begin reading this weblog again, you'll find that I have been confessing my longing here while you were gone.

Even when things appear so bleak, I remember (finally) that I am yours, and that doing the things I've been thinking about would hurt you immeasurably. I won't leave you again. I refuse to disappear, to make you wonder why I've gone.

But I do still long to feel your arms around me, your lips on my skin, your hand in my hair...

And I still think everything tastes better on you.

I'm heading out for the weekend. Escorting a bunch of lively teenagers to Chico. It should be interesting. Crazy, but interesting. Back Monday evening.

Why is it that when I can feel nothing else, I feel your absence so acutely? Is it because I love you, or because I only feel safe in your arms? Or is it some combination of both?

I miss feeling safe.

Still, almost every thought begins with you taking me in your arms. I want to feel your skin next to my cheek, your arms around me, your strength, your warmth.

I want to gaze into your eyes, while you make my body tremble and my heart sing.

I want to spend the rest of my life being yours.

I'm beginning to think that it will be the middle of next month before I hear from you. I know why, but it must have occurred to you that this is a pretty severe way to let me know of your disappointment.

On the other hand, I knew all along that whatever you chose would be severe, didn't I?

I hope you are having a good spring, and that you think as fondly of me as I do of you. (And that your dreams leave you feeling the way mine leave me.)

Always.

Seventeen days. Granted, I was away for seven of them, but still...

It has been far too long.

I miss you. I want to hold your hand again, to feel your lips against my skin. I want to lie in your arms and know that no matter what, you'll keep me safe.

I want this hellish limbo to be over.

I think I'm doing better - at least in some ways. I find that I miss you even when we've recently spoken. I have started to dream of you again, rather than dreaming of falling.

Yes, I have started having recurring dreams in which I am falling, and wake up as or just before I hit the ground. Not at all sure what that means, but the fact that you're showing up in my dreams again is (I believe) a good sign.

And every once in a while, a fantasy creeps in - usually while I'm driving for a relatively long distance. And you know you're the subject of all my fantasies. Of course, the new skirt helps... I can't wait for you to see it in person.

Spent a little time on my own this past week. It was enlightening, in that I figured out that I needed to take some steps I have been avoiding in order to get on with my life, and that I am not anywhere near as far along in my treatment as I had thought I was.

Maybe it was the fact that my purse grew legs and walked off with both my driver's license and passport, or the fact that because of the crazy schedule I was unable to take my medications the way I should, but the numbness is back, and I'm doing very little except sleeping and making sure Maria has what she needs. I have to get out this week - if I continue in this fashion I *will* end up at the beach, and nobody (with the possible exception of the stbx) really wants that.

I just wish I could see you. I don't know exactly what it would entail, but I do know that I would feel something. It might not be the most pleasurable (for me, anyway) but I *would* feel. And I need to feel something again.

(Yes, I know you want it to be pleasurable for me too - and I'll always love that about you.)

Court is always just so much fun. I can't wait until my next visit. Hopefully then I won't be standing up there alone. I would really love to have some company when appearing before the judge.

Think I can find the rat bastard in time to get him there?

We spoke again just the other day. I cannot tell you how good it is to hear from you. It does so much to improve my mood, to make me feel warm and loved and and even sexy. Until you came into my life I hadn't wanted to be with anyone in years. You came along, and everything changed. I was happy. So very happy.

I want to be happy again. I want to hold you, to watch you while you sleep. I want to spend the night covering you when you kick off the blankets. I want to wake you in the morning by telling you how much I adore you.

I want to see that smile one more time.

It was wonderful talking with you this morning. I know how much you want me to be happy, and with your help I am hopeful that one day I can be happy again.

Thank you for being my friend, and for being so very patient while I am getting myself out of this nasty situation.

And thank you for being so damned cute. Even when nothing else can make me smile, you always do.

Finally a good day. I hope they continue, although I know it won't be that easy. But the meds seem to be working, and I was able to get through a whole afternoon surrounded by strangers with only one bad incident.

I think that's progress.